


The Fake Psychics Club

by ebonyfeather



Series: Two of a kind [1]
Category: Psych, The Mentalist
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-29
Updated: 2012-02-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 22:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonyfeather/pseuds/ebonyfeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick Jane and Shawn Spencer bond when a case causes their paths to cross.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fake Psychics Club

 

From the doorway, Patrick Jane watched as the scruffy young man in the red shirt and jeans clutched at the detective in front of him. The detective sighed, looking uncomfortable, and tried to back out of reach but the young man’s fingers gripped the lapel of his jacket. The red-shirted man muttered something, his words eagerly absorbed by the audience of detectives and uniformed police officers around him. His face twitched, his eyes closed, as he threw himself about as though he were having a fit.

 

Had Patrick not been so observant, he might have missed the second when the young man opened one eye and peered over the detective’s shoulder at the open file on the desk. He smiled.

 

_Busted._

 

“Are we interrupting something?” he heard Lisbon ask dryly as she strode past him into the Santa Barbara Police Department.

 

As she approached, the room fell silent and the detective shook his jacket free of the man’s grip.

 

“Can we help you?” he asked.

 

“Senior Agent Lisbon, CBI.” Lisbon held up her I.D. “This is Agent Rigsby. We’re here for Adam Fergusson- I believe you have him in your custody.”

 

“He’s currently being questioned.”

 

“And you would be…?”

 

The detective frowned at her. “Detective Lassiter. Fergusson is under questioning for assaulting a police officer; he’s under SBPD jurisdiction.”

 

Lisbon matched his frown. “I beg to differ. The man is wanted in an ongoing CBI investigation and you will take me to him. Now.”

 

“Until I see some kind of warrant for his transfer, he stays here,” Lassiter argued.

 

All around, the other detectives and police seemed to realise that this argument was not going to end well and found somewhere else they needed to be, sliding off quietly into the background. All except the guy in the red shirt. He was watching with interest, his gaze shifting then to fall on Patrick. He looked him up and down before smiling and then turning back to the argument.

 

“You could share…” he teased.

 

He never got beyond that as Lassiter turned and glared at him. The look was enough to make anyone nervous but the man just shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the desk behind him as if to say, you want to bicker in public, it’s your choice.

 

“What is going on out here?”

 

Lassiter and Lisbon both turned to the speaker, who introduced herself as Chief Vick, before both she steered the argument towards her office, Rigsby following. No one paid any attention to the two men watching quietly. As the door closed, the young man glanced up at Patrick and sauntered over.

 

“Shawn Spencer, psychic consultant.”

 

“Patrick Jane.”

 

Shawn indicated with his chin to the closed office door. “They’re going to be a while,” he said. He grinned, casting an appreciative eye over Patrick. With his blonde curly hair and the dangerous twinkle in his eyes, the man looked interesting. Very interesting, thought Shawn, and cute, too. “Looks like you get the pleasure of my company in the meantime. Come on, I know a place nearby that does the best chocolate brownies.”

 

Patrick didn’t think that sounded like a bad thing. He wondered for a moment if he should leave a note or tell someone he was leaving before shaking his head and following Shawn out of the door. He was led to a coffee shop just around the corner from the police department, where Shawn appeared to be on first name terms with the girl behind the counter. He ordered brownies and two pineapple smoothies.

 

“You’re right, these are good,” Patrick said, taking a bite of the cake once they were seated at a table. “How’d you know I liked chocolate Brownies?”

 

Shawn tapped his forefinger against his temple. “Psychic, remember?”

 

“You know, I don’t believe in psychics,” he said.

 

“Funny that, coming from a TV psychic,” Shawn observed, enjoying the slightly surprised flicker that crossed the other man’s face. “I knew I’d seen you somewhere before.”

 

Patrick smiled. “That was for show, a trick- I don’t believe there are genuine psychics.” He thought back to the scene at the police department when they had first arrived. He’d seen that I’m-having-a-vision routine before but this guy was good.

 

“Oh, is that so?” Shawn dug through his pocket until he came up with an old receipt, scribbled something on the back, and then folded it and handed it to Patrick.

 

“What’s this?”

 

“Don’t look, just keep it,” Shawn told him, smiling. “Think of it as proof.”

 

“Is that supposed to convince me that you’re psychic? It won’t, because there is no such thing.”

 

“How do you know that you’ve just never met a real psychic, huh?” Shawn pointed out. “What makes you so sure that I’m not?”

 

“That little performance earlier? I know how you did it; I saw you sneak a peek at that file at the office.”

 

Shawn grinned. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

 

\-------

 

Four hours later, Shawn’s phone rang.

 

“Shawn? Where the hell are you?”

 

Seeing Patrick’s curious glance, he covered the mouthpiece. “It’s Gus.”

 

Nicely tipsy from the past two hours in the bar, Patrick grabbed the phone.

 

“Hi, Gus!”

 

Shawn took the phone back, laughing.

 

_“Who was that?”_

 

“Patrick,” Shawn told him, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

 _“Patrick Jane? I guess that answers that question.”_ Gus sighed. _“I have had Lassiter calling looking for you; it seems that the CBI are missing a consultant as well.”_

 

“But they were ignoring us.”

 

Beside him, Patrick nodded emphatically as he listened in.

 

 _“Shawn, just bring him back,”_ Gus ordered. _“Now.”_

 

Shawn frowned at the phone in his hand. “He hung up on me.”

 

They finished their drinks and reluctantly set off back toward the police department building. It was only about a ten minute walk but with neither of them in a rush to get to the lecture that awaited them it took nearer thirty.

 

“You know, you look very snappy in that suit,” Shawn observed, his speech slightly slurred. “’Never thought suits could look sexy before.”

 

Patrick stopped, cocking his head to one side as he grinned at Shawn. “You think I’m sexy?”

 

“Well, duh.” Shawn rolled his eyes.

 

Patrick snagged Shawn’s arm and pulled him back into the doorway, edging him back against the door. He leaned in closer before stealing a kiss.

 

“Took you long enough,” Shawn murmured, smirking.

 

Reaching up, he did what he had wanted to since Patrick Jane had first walked into the police department, running his fingers through those blonde curls as he dragged Patrick down for another kiss.

 

He looked up at Patrick. “This could be the start of a beautiful friendship,” he quipped.

 

They made it back to the department a short time later, sauntering in, arm in arm, they both stopped dead. Before them, Lassiter and Agent Lisbon sat waiting, arms crossed and identical looks of irritation on their faces.

 

“I’m getting a flashback of my dad sitting waiting when I stayed out past curfew,” Shawn whispered, eliciting a snort of laughter from Patrick.

 

“I really don’t want to go back to the hotel with them,” Patrick said as Shawn returned after Lassiter had finished lecturing him. “You have any other suggestions?”

 

Shawn beamed happily. “Read the piece of paper.”

 

Patrick got it from his pocket and unfolded it.

 

“Yes, you can stay with me tonight,” he read. He laughed as he followed Shawn out of the door.

 

 

 


End file.
